


Let's Take This Mess And Make A Home

by stargazingatmidnight



Category: We're Alive, We’re Alive-A Story of Survival (Podcast)
Genre: A Zombie Story Of Survival, Angst, Domestic, F/M, Fluff, I am creating a tag for the OGs, KC Wayland I love you but Imma say no on that, Kid Fic, Podcast, Romance, Spoilers, THERE IS ONLY TWO FICS IN THIS FANDOM WHAT THE HELL, Zombie Apocalypse, anyway, duh - Freeform, if you havent finished the series, infertility what infertility, oh shit i need to come up with a title
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-06-30
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:25:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargazingatmidnight/pseuds/stargazingatmidnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Imagine Person A of your OTP sleeping in their bed, and the baby wakes up and goes to sleep with A, and Person B come back from work and just stay looking at the scene</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Take This Mess And Make A Home

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt found on imagineyourotp.tumblr.com

Around him the rest of the Colony were rising with the sun. Neighbours heading out to their jobs nod or throw a lazy salute toward him in greeting, and he forced himself to return them. They’re off to take their turn patrolling the wall, working in the fields or one of the other hundred jobs that have cropped up in the last few years. In the four years since Saul's sacrifice, over two thousand people have sought refuge behind their tall walls. There is even a small school running for the children that have stumbled in, clinging to their guardians’ hands and legs and eyeing the other residents untrustworthily.

Michael cursed as his key scraped across the lock again, exhaustion and cold turning his limbs to lead. He slumped forward against the cheerful cornflower blue door, forehead thumping against it softly as he mumbled vague threats under his breath. Night patrol may be much quieter since Pegs had organised the giant symbols painted along the Colony's walls, but the tension that had kept Michael awake that first night he had kept watch in the Tower's stairwell has still yet to fade. As the searchlights swept across the ruins surrounding the Colony, every reflection off broken windows and stripped steel looked like unblinking eyes watching, waiting until his back turned before they'd spring forward and scale the walls.

Shaking off the dark thoughts that still have him startling awake at every unexpected noise (even though it has been years since the last attack), he finally fit the key into the lock and pushed open the door, locking it securely behind him. The kitchen is on the west side of the house and still in quiet darkness. He toed off his boots and shrugged off his jacket, stumbling through it with a jaw-cracking yawn, already half-asleep as he shuffled into the bathroom.  
He paused just before turning on the tap, finally noticing the soft warmth emanating from beside the sink. The heating throughout the house is off, except the small radiator there. Over it hangs his soft navy sweatpants, gently warmed for his return.  
He traced his fingertips across them, the corner of his mouth curling into his first smile in hours. He pulled them on, sighing and savouring their warmth as he washed the night’s dirt off. A hint of colour has finally started to come back into his cheeks. After being bedridden a week ago due to a flu and fever, his beige skin had taken on a ghostly grey pallor that only now has started to regain its healthy hue.

He only paused to wrinkle his nose at the few silver strands hiding among his tousled crop of brown hair. Stress and genetics were both stacked against him His father had greyed early, snow white by the time he was forty-five, but the sight still made him huff.

He poked them with a grumble before he slapped off the light and stumbled to the master bedroom, already half asleep as he pushed open the door, only to simply stop and stare. He let himself lean against the door-frame for a moment as his soft gaze fell on the bed.

Pegs lay on her side, one half of her face hidden by her pillow while the other had a few curls falling across her cheek. As he watched, she shifted slightly and another lock fell across her face. It tickled her and she twitched in her sleep, wriggling her nose to dislodge it. A quiet laugh escaped him despite his exhaustion; she always did know how to make him smile.

Sunlight streamed through the few cracks in the blinds, golden streaks highlighting the bronze notes in her skin, smooth and flawless if not for the few lighter lines. Michael knows the story behind every one of those scars: those earned battling the dead and depraved; those from clumsy accidents; and those that taught her humans could be cruel long before the Mallers knocked on their door.

It's been five years since she jumped off the flower-shop roof and into their hummer, and she's only become more beautiful in his eyes. Just like that very first day, no matter what’s happening around them, he always finds his gaze drawn to her.

Under the arm not tucked under her pillow, Nicky lays on his back in the middle of the bed. He's starfished out, mouth open and slack in sleep as one hand grips the sleeve of her pyjama top. He only met him when he was 21, but Michael can tell he's growing into the double of his father. He contrasts only slightly with Pegs, a deep umber where she is tawny brown, tight black curls where hers are looser and a sun kissed chocolate. Lizzy's green eyes are only slits in his sleep, but they are just as bright and beautiful as hers when he laughs, and as cold and stone when he’s being stubborn.

His side of the bed is taken.

Mr Whiskers glares at him, and he glares back. The damn cat has never warmed up to him and is fiercely loyal to Pegs and, funnily enough, Bert. God help you if you make them upset in his presence, more than one member of the Colony bare his livid scratches. Not that he'd scratch them in front of Pegs or Bert; no, he'd wait until they had calmed down and then stalk after his victim and attack when they're least expecting it  
(Micheal still bares four thin scars down his forearm after, in a burst of pregnancy hormones, Pegs had burst into tears when he had came home from a supply run with a bloody lip and black eye)  
It has taken years, but they've finally come to an understanding that Micheal isn't going to hurt Pegs and Mr Whiskers isn't going anywhere. 

That doesn't mean they like each other at all though, and the cat has held an eternal grudge for being downgraded from his spot on top of Peg’s feet in the Tower to his basket sat the foot of their bed.

He drags his glare from the cat, only to soften entirely at the thief holding his pillow hostage.

Though perhaps the pillows are holding them hostage. They’re trapped in a fluffy fortress, pillows stacked around them on all four sides. The prisoner was distracted when he opened the door, too busy playing with their toes with sleepy eyes to notice. His soft laugh broke their focus though, and now they’re wriggling in excitement, rocking back and forth with their arms outstretched.

Exhaustion forgotten, he quickly crossed the room and swooped his daughter into his arms. At eight months, Angelica is the double of her mother. She reached out to grab his cheeks, giggling at the rasp of stubble against her soft palms. 

"Hey baby girl" Michael whispered to her, brushing his nose against hers in a light Eskimo kiss, "What are you doing with my pillow? You giving Mommy a hard time?"

His voice is a mockery of stern and Angelica only gurgled in response, sucking on her fist with sleepy eyes. "You ready to go back to sleep?" He murmured against her soft hair as he moved over to the cot. She snapped awake again and protested with a high-pitched whimper, reaching up to grab his hair tightly.

"Ah baby girl," he halfheartedly scolded, gently detangling her fingers. "We don't pull daddy's hair."

She whimpered again with wide, wet eyes, and damn him, but he never could resist that look on Pegs face.

  
"Okay, okay." He hushed, rocking her gently as he made his way back to the bed. With his free arm he rearranged the pillows, careful not wake Nicky or Pegs before settling Angelica onto the mattress and draping her baby-blanket over her. She kicked at it a few times, babbling to herself in delight before she eventually found it satisfactory and stilled, gripping the sunshine material with a tight little fist.

Carefully, Michael settled onto the bed himself, dragging the duvet just over his waist. A mirror to Pegs, he lay on his side, carefully curved around Angelica as she is curved around Nicky. Angelica stares up at him for a few more minutes, until her eyes grow too heavy and she slips off, mouth open like Nicky and leg hitched to the side like her father usually sleeps.

He watched over them for a few minutes, his gaze roving over the three of them, relaxed and peaceful in their sleep. Warmth filled him, his utter adoration and awe of them holding his breath and burning his eyes for a moment. At 26, he had resigned himself to an isolated and tired life. At 27, all hell broke loose and it was hard to think more than a week ahead of himself. At 32, he has a beautiful partner, children and home, surrounded by a supportive community and with irreplaceable friends.

When he can finally catch his breath, he gently pressed a kiss against Angelica's hair, and leaned over to drop one on Nicky's forehead. He looked up to see Pegs watching him with half-lidded eyes and soft sleepy smile, the warmth in her dark eyes stopping his heart as usual.

Without a word exchanged they both leaned over to share a soft kiss and a quiet 'I love you', then sank back down into the mattress again. Peg's hand shifted, and Michael slipped into sleep as he curled his fingers around hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Infertility? What infertility?  
> (Yes Angelia is named after Angel, and their next kid with have Saul's middle name (when I can remember it) as his first)


End file.
